Blossoming Darkness
by hanabusa.masaki
Summary: A/N: This takes place sometime after the King of Pokelantis thing of the battle frontier season. In short, the actually soul of Pokelantis-ou has been removed from Satoshi's body, but it like how you know even a small occurance can bring out something that's been there all along. So in short, this is about Satoshi trying to keep his growing dark self from swallowing what's left of


_Laughter_

_Smiles_

_Happiness_

All of these things Satoshi wanted desperately. He had once had them at one point in his lifetime. It would be strange for a sixteen year old boy to never experience such things. But he had lost them all. His carefree smile. His cheerful laughter. His unwavering joy. Now it simply seemed out of reach, just barely beyond the reach of his fingertips.

The young Pokemon trainer rolled over onto his side, making himself comfortable on the hotel room's king-sized bed. The group of traveling friends, Takeshi, Haruka, her younger brother, and Pikachu, had decided to stay the night at a small hotel before continuing on their journey. They had left not all that not long ago to find someplace to have dinner. He remained behind, saying that he wasn't hungry. In actuality, he was starving, but he had been dying to be alone. He would never want his companions to see him in the state he was currently in.

He curled into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest, tossing his jacket onto the floor. Despite all of his efforts to hold them in, he felt hot tears leak from his deep, brown eyes. He rubbed his face against the blanket to try to wipe them away, but the salty flood kept on coming. He hated how he felt. They were feelings he had never felt in his life. And if he had, they were never this strong before.

_Hatred_

_Disgust_

_Emptiness_

Satoshi finally managed to hold back his tears after a few minutes of crying. He continued to lay there, not feeling like moving. He brushed his lightly tanned face gently, wiping away the now cooling tear streaks. Looking at his hands, he removed his black and green gloves. Underneath were two scarred hands, lines etched into his skin. He looked down at the two types of scars. One kind, now fewer in number than he recalled, was from his endless journey; most were from battling, others from the terrain they crossed to reach new cities. Those were the ones he would laugh off, saying they were no big deal for the great Satoshi, the greatest Pokemon master that will ever live. The other scars did not bring such happy memories. The other scars were from the cold blade of a knife, self inflicted injuries. He wished for the happiness of the first kind.

Now all of his laughs, all his smiles were false. He couldn't smile like he meant it anymore, no matter how hard he tried. And every time he plaster a fake grin on his face, it held like his heart was being crushed. It felt like it was shattering into a million tiny shards when he saw the relations of his friends: smiles and laughing.

They didn't notice at all. They didn't see that he was enduring a great pain. He was hoping someone would notice that his joyous laughter, his happiness, was a clever facade. But nobody did. Haruka, a young trainer from New Bark Town that had decided to come with them on their travels, was kind and understanding. She had the unique ability to notice when someone was upset or worried. She didn't notice. Her younger brother was far too young to understand or realize anything. He thought at least Takeshi, one of his first ever companions would say something or at least notice Satoshi's unusual behavior. But all he did was laugh as well. Nobody paid attention. Nobody seemed to care. Nobody seemed to notice that Satoshi was slowly losing himself. Eventually, the young ten began to feel a loneliness that he never though one could feel. He felt completely and absolutely alone in the world.

It seemed so long since this these emotions began to appear, although it had only been a few months. He used to be joyful and ever so optimistic. But ever since lost himself to the malevolent darkness of Pokelantis-ou, back in the Battle Frontier, he had slowly began to hate his companions and loathe even his own life. After he had his body returned to him, he was different. Different in a way he wouldn't want anyone to see. Everything he believed in seemed so wrong, that light was the only path one could travel along. Now another path had seemed to appear, one of darkness and hatred. He became torn between the two paths but the more he pondered which to go down, the narrower the path to light became.

His head starting to hurt, so with a little effort, he stood up somewhat wobbly. Using the wall for support he made his way towards the bathroom. Luckily the room was relatively small: it had one king-sized bed, a small tv, and a restroom. It was all they needed for one night. He open the door and walked into the small dark room. He flipped the switch, causing his eyes to hurt at the sudden light. He closed the door behind him, locking it. Satoshi turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run a few moments before cupping it into his hands. He splashed the water onto his warm face. It felt nice to him, although it did not help with his horrid headache. He ran his slightly wet fingers through his black, messy hair, massaging his scalp a tad. With a sigh, he turned the faucet off.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't look at all what he normally did. His messy, black hair was sticking out in different directions and his fairly pretty eyes were bloodshot. The longer he stared into his image the more he failed to recognize it. He placed his fingertips to the mirror's cold feel, touching identical image. He cocked his head to the side to see if the reflection would do the same, as if checking if it really was himself he was seeing.

Sliding his fingers along the glass, he placed his palm to where the reflections heart would be. The other hand followed. Suddenly, as if trying to respond to him trying to reclaim apart of him, his head began to hurt beyond belief. It felt like it was going to split in two. Letting out a strangled hiss, he quickly restarted the water and stuck his head under the freezing liquid. It didn't ease the pain one bit; in fact it might have made it worse. He pulled his head away and gripped it fiercly. His fingers latched onto clumps of black locks and he nearly ripped them out. His nails dug into his scalp as the pain nearly doubled, slowly spreading to the rest of his body, like molten rock was flowing through his veins. His knees gave in and the poor boy crumpled down onto the floor. Satoshi reached for a towel that was lying on the counter above and swiftly place it in his mouth. He buried his face into it and with his teeth biting down onto the rough material, he let out a horrid, muffled scream. He closed his eyes tightly as if to block out the pain, but the darkness behind his eyelids seemed to add more fuel to the fire. His body began to violently shake and he writhed in pain. It felt as though ever shred of darkness was trying to claw its way out. He curled himself into a small ball on the floor, holding his stomach to hold back the strong nausea. A few gasps and grunts escaped his clenched teeth. Tears streamed down his cheeks once more as the pains growing furiousity made him think that this was how being burnt alive felt like. Almost as suddenly as it began, however, the pain suddenly subsided.

His body became limp when the pain stopped. He hadn't the strength to move a single muscle, not even a digit, for it was like all the strength and life was sucked out of him. Heavy pants escaped his lips as cold sweat doused his body. He opened his eyes to where they were half lidded, but saw nothing for his vision had become blurred from tears and was beginning to go black. His pant turned into uneven breathes as his body relaxed. His body felt a strange after feeling butin short nothing was experiencing pain except for his heart. It felt like it was sinking, slipping away from him. He could feel the darkness that had made its way into his soul, for his disgust of himself and emptiness increased, like the last little spark for hope and happiness had been extinguished.

His hand began to twitch slightly. He moved his eyes to watch but only saw a blur. From his mouth came an unexpected horse laugh, a laugh filled with bitterness. It echoed in the near silent room, since the sound of flowing water still came. Weakly, he pulled his lips into a sad smile.

"I thought...for s-sure that time..." he whispered disappointedly. Laying on his back now, he brought his hand to cover his face, continuing his cruel laughter. He wiped away the tears and darkly chuckled slightly before taking advantage of his returning strength. Propping himself up so that his back lay against the closed shower door, he stared up to the lights posted above the mirror. They burned his eyes, black orbs parading through his vision. But he didn't want to look away. He notice that the faucet was still running so he broke eye contact to turn it off. He left his hand on the handle when it was no longer on, examining it. He put it in front of his face and with his other hands he traced over the the many scars gently, as if each touch could break the skin into tiny pieces.

Satoshi left his eyes fall half closed as he let thoughts swim throughout his mind; whether they were his our another's thought he did not know. One idea, one that he knew was not his own, caught his attention. Moving onto his knees, he opened the sink's drawer. He let his hand wander through it. Several toothbrushes, a bottle a tylenol, an eyeglass repair kit. He halted when his fingertips brushed up against something cold and metallic. The teen removed the small switchblade from the drawer. He rubbed his thumb against the smooth handle. With a quick flick of the wrist, the blade emerge. With sorrowful eyes, he studied the steel tool, holding it up to the light. He could see a partial reflection in the cold silver; he could see an amber eye looking back at him. Satoshi's mind started to cloud over as he ran his index finger over the sharp edge. A small trickle of blood sneak out of the small cut. Almost without thinking, he brought the finger to his mouth and licked up the red liquid with his tongue. Seeing a small remainder of blood on the knife, he licked the icy cold blade, careful not to cut his tongue. He found it odd that he enjoyed the metallic taste of his own blood. He made a deep cut across the back of his left hand. It hurt, but the pain relaxed him in a sense. He made another, and another, and another. Satoshi watched as the warm liquid well up and run down his flesh. Mere seconds before it was about to drip of his hand, he lapped it up, slowly to better savor the tantalizing flavor. He couldn't help feel like a monster.

Maybe he was. His heart began to cave into itself as he couldn't help think of what he had become. He wanted the world to disappear. He wanted everyone to vanish. He had begun to love pain. Even if that wasn't enough, he was licking up his own blood because it tasted so good. That to him was proof enough of what he had turned into, what he had become against his will.

Or maybe it was there all along. Maybe it was alway there, but it could never show, take hold of him. Perhaps it was when he lost his senses that it was triggered. Satoshi look at his reflection in the knife with total disgust. His stomach began to feel sick just looking at himself. He felt the darkness of himself tug at his heart once again. Satoshi figured it wouldn't be all to long until he would have another pain-ridden attack. And when that happened, he may not be able to recover like he did this time. The ever growing darkness would soon swallow him up, and he knew at that time he couldn't possibly put up a struggle.

He looked down at his cut up right hand. It was still bleeding and making a tiny puddle on the tiled bathroom floor. He couldn't help fall in love with the pain those wounds caused him. With that though in his mind, he couldn't help wonder. If self inflicted injuries felt that great, would death feel absolutly amazing? For some time he had developed a liking for his switchblade's edge against his skin. But all of it was limited to his hands and occasionally his wrists. He tried to imagine how the sharp steel would feel against his neck.

Losing his senses and control, he brought his the knife up to when his aorta, the largest arterry in the human body, pulsed. The blade was always cold, but now it felt absolutly freezing, sending shivers down his spine. He smiled, his mild insanity taking over him.

_Shouldn't all monsters deserve to die?_

His hand remained steady as he was about to slice into his flesh. But the moment he move to pierce his artery, his hand froze, not on his own accord, but another force. Shocked, he desperately tried to move his hand to no success. Confused, a small, near silent voice spoke up from the back of his mind.

'Why should it be you?' it asked in Satoshi's voice. He heard the question echo throughout his head.

"Why not me? Look at me. What I am," he responded to the question out loud. Sadness drenched his answer, amplified by the dead silent room. Satoshi heard it laugh at him.

'Are you really the problem? Or is it everyone else?' Satoshi became confused. Why was it so wrong to take his life when he had become a monster? How could anyone else be a problem. His head began to hurt.

'Are you really the one who is a monster?' the voice responded, reading his thoughts. 'Who is the judge of what you are and what you aren't? It's decided by everyone else. Not you. Everyone else decide what is good and evil, sane and insane. Whose to say they aren't the monsters, that you're one of the few sane ones?' the voice persuaded. Satoshi felt the control coming back into his arm, but instead of ending his life right then, he closed the knife and place it onto the ground. He decided to listen to what this voice of his mind had to say.

"If I'm not insane, then why am I talking to an weird voice in my mind?" he shot back.

'It is perfectly normal to listen to one's subconscious, it's human nature. I'm not feeding you anything new, just thoughts you have already thought of, thoughts you have ignored. My words have been here all along.' If his subconscious had a face, he knew there would be a terrifying, toothy grin spread across it.

"So I was right. I was crazy to begin with...," the teen started slowly, terrified at this thought. The voice began to grow louder. If he hadn't know it was from his own head, he could've easily mistook it for someone talking to him through the bathroom door.

'You aren't crazy. You are perfectly sane. It's everyone else who has lost their sanity.' The voice was smooth and convincing.

"I don't underst-"

'Who can define insanity? There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfectly normal. So why should you take your life when you are? Why should you pay? It shouldn't be you who has to suffer." It cooed. The voice had begun to make sense to him. Satoshi couldn't help his growing curiosity.

"If not me, then who? Who is supposed to suffer? Why should anyone suffer for me?" He asked, a bit louder than he expected. He listened closely as the dark's grasp took hold of his heart.

'I thought that that would be obvious. It's everyone else that deserves to suffer, to die. Not you.' it said bluntly.

"Why should everyone suffer because of me?" the boy became confused at the idea, but he strangely was not against the idea.

'They are the one's that caused you to suffer, no? Your so called friends? They've noticed your pain. But they ignore it. Those people are making fun of your misery. In this world, it's so hard to find a single person who truly cares about you. It's so easy, however, to find someone who looks down on you. Those who enjoy the suffering of others. One normally can only rely on one person. That one being is yourself.'

"Myself..." Satoshi whispered. All the things spoken, all the words spoken by this voice, he found himself believing it. Had any of his friends ever cared about him? And with all the many people in the world, how many would even glance at him, let alone make a friendship, to care? Maybe it was right.

Satoshi glanced down at the closed switchblade in his palm. Maybe he shouldn't do it. As he debated with himself, he noticed the voice had disappeared. At that moment, he heard the door to the hotel room open and a band of voices entering.

"Hey Satoshi! Where are you? We brought you some cake!" Haruka called out. Satoshi heard Haruka's little brother laughing with Pikachu, and Takeshi flopping down onto the bed. In a quick motion he wiped up the blood from his hand and the floor with a piece of toilet paper and threw it into the toilet bowl. He stood up, and flushed the evidence away.

"I'm in the bathroom! Ill be out in a second!" He called back with a false cheerfulness. He pulled on his gloves to hide the gashes and shoved the knife into his jean pocket. He put on a bright smile for his companions. He opened the door to where his four friends were. Disgust rang out throughout his body.

'_Maybe the voice was right. No, not maybe. It was right,' _he thought to himself.

_Without even knowing, his heart had sunken into the darkness far beyond the point of return._

_END_

A/N: OH GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO POOR SATOSHI! WAAAH! I've turned that innocent idiot boy into an insane, suicidal, homicidal, vampire thing! The vampire thing was always there(Note in different cases he is seen with fangs, he sparkled in the first movie although real vampires don't sparkle, and he doesn't age!) but I brought this to a new level of cruel! This is just plain crap! Ung, please tell me what you think.


End file.
